Battle Royale: Die With a Smile
by The Mockingjay Lives
Summary: A Battle Royale in America, when it has become extremely popular. Watch forty-two characters fight, die, or outlast all other contestants and perform the unthinkable...surviving the program.
1. Prologue

**List of Students**

**Girl #1: Campbell Peltz**

**Boy #1: Thomas Khaki**

**Girl #2: Silvia Perrins**

**Boy #2: Joe Zednik**

**Girl #3: ****Calliope Calamis**

**Boy #3: Caliborn Calamis**

**Girl #4: Kimberly Clark**

**Boy #4: Felix Gatenburg**

**Girl #5: Virginia Warren**

**Boy #5: Matthew Dennis**

**Girl #6: Natasha Poole**

**Boy #6: Kyison Jimmers**

**Girl #7: ****Amber Dawson**

**Boy #7: Ryan Huang**

**Girl #8: Aria Marian**

**Boy #8: Kevin Blake**

**Girl #9: Angelic De'Mesa**

**Boy #9: Dewayne Fields**

******Girl #10: Brooke Stewards**

**Boy #10: Brett Danes**

**********Girl #11: Tia Sinclair**

**Boy #11:**** David Caruthers**

******Girl #12: Riley Mercer**

******Boy #12: Alec Voor**

**Girl #13: Ebony Saunter**

**Boy #13: Daniel "Danny" Richardson**

**Girl #14: Ellianna "Ellie" Rakas**

**Boy #14: Alok Dulal**

**Girl #15: Beca Sykes**

**Boy #15: Arthur Abeoden**

**Girl #16: Julia Elspeth Fitzalan-Howard**

**Boy #16: Aiden "Ryu" Akizuki**

**Girl #17: Sophia Valerie Plummer**

**Boy #17: Michael "Spaghetti" Ragetti**

**Girl #18: Cheyenne LaFleur**

**Boy #18: Gabriel Kamishiro**

**Girl #19: Lana Mariak**

**Boy #19: Emmett Kingsley**

**Girl #20: Lilly Baraley  
**

**Boy #20: Jake Cross**

**Girl #21: Tara Zeller**

**Boy #21: Ace Fernandez**

**Replacement Girl #10: Violetta "Viola" Brooks**

**Replacement Girl #18: Jeanette Isabella "Jittery" Pikes**

**I have all of them! The next chapter will be up soon. I also have a blog up, the link is on my profile. Thank you so much to everyone who reviews!**

"_They're all ready, Ms. Leticia. The class has been chosen."_

_"Good. Excellent, Pierre. I'll pose as their teacher. Anyone special for me to worry about this time?"_

_"Err, yes, Ms. Leticia. We have a-"_

_He whispered in the beautiful young woman's ear, and her blue eyes widened for a moment. Then she shook her head dismissively. _

_"We've had that before, Pierre. Don't worry. I can deal with her. Now leave me."_

_The nervous little man scurried off, and Ms. Leticia pressed her cheek against the wall, contemplating. How many times was she going to have innocent children killed? How many times would yet another family go into mourning?_

_"As many times as I like," she answered herself, and smiled, letting her worries float away. She looked out through the narrow window, and saw the freshly painted yellow schoolbus sitting outside, waiting for her to get in and drive away with more children._

_"This is going to be a perfect Program."_


	2. All the poor, poor children

_Four days later..._

Ms. Leticia appeared on all television screens in the U.S. She smiled, displaying dazzlingly white teeth.

"Hello, America! It's a fine day, isn't it? A very fine day indeed. And guess what? The winner of our most recent Battle Royale emerged yesterday!"

Some Battle Royale fans were outraged, and shouted at their televisions. Why didn't they get to see it? It had been filmed for years now, and shown to the public! What was different about this time?

Of course Ms. Leticia couldn't hear them. But if she had, she would have given the same answer as she did anyway.

"We have to process some of the scenes that were recorded before we display it. But never fear, Battle Royale will come to all of your homes soon enough!"

Some people cheered or sighed in relief. The rest of the population moaned. The families of the children taken wept to know they would have to see the deaths. They didn't even know if their child had survived.

"This Battle Royale was very exciting, I assure you," said Ms. Leticia, smiling as happily as if she were announcing the scores on a ball game. Maybe that was all Battle Royale was to her.

"So stunning and wonderful that I just can't wait to show it all to you! I hope you won't be impatient. To tide you over for a few days until it's ready, here are a few recorded scenes to keep you in suspense!"

She laughed with a sound as bright as sleigh bells, and yet, somehow as hollow as the peal of funeral bells. Then her lovely face disappeared from the screen to be replaced with a series of short clips...

_A girl laughing as she stabbed another cowering, crying student, too bloodied to be recognized..._

_A boy pushing another into a blazing fire..._

_Two girls screaming and clinging together as their collars ticked rapidly..._

_The body of a small girl sprawled out on a wooden board, her hands and feet nailed to the corners..._

_A boy sobbing as he tenderly folded a dead girl's arms over her chest..._

_Two students running from a large boy with a curved, bloody sword..._

_A boy firing round after round from a rifle at a student pinned under a piece of rubble..._

Ms. Leticia returned once more to the screen. She winked.

"I hope that keeps you guessing for a while. Have fun, and support Battle Royale!"

All screens switched back to the last program that had been interrupted. Everyone either excitedly commented on the sneak peeks, went silent in respect of the dead students, or let out anguished cries at recognizing a relative or friend.

Ms. Leticia, back at the studio where she had been filmed, let out a long breath. She viciously scrubbed at her left eye. Pierre approached her cautiously. "Is everything alright, Ms. Leticia?" he asked, bowing his balding head obsequiously.

"Yes," she snapped, brushing him away. "There's- there's just something in my eye."

She swept up the stairs to her room. Looking out the narrow window again, she saw the yellow schoolbus parked there once again, being repainted good as new.

"The poor children," she whispered, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. "Those poor, poor children."

She laughed again, madly, the sound reminiscent of tinkling sleigh bells. And yet, it also sounded as hollow as a pealing funeral bell.


	3. Betrayal

"Wake up, everyone!"

The class of forty-two students slowly regained consciousness. Ms. Leticia stood smiling brightly at the front of the room.

"What's going on here?"

A large Asian boy sat up in his unfamiliar desk. Ms. Leticia clapped her hands delightedly.

"The first to speak! Oh, I must make a note of this. Let me see. You're Gabriel Kamishiro, right? Boy number eighteen?"

"Yeah," he said warily. "Why are we here? We were on the bus, going on a trip. Then...oh god." His confusion turned into shock.

"The bus- the bus, what happened there? What did you do to us?"

The other students began to remember what happened in the bus.

It stopped suddenly, Sophia Plummer (Girl #17) recalled. Everyone was surprised. Then there was a crash. Something was thrown through a window, and it exploded. It didn't kill us, so it must have been a sonic grenade. Then I woke up here. That can only mean...

"Excuse me!"

Natasha Poole (Girl #6) seemed to have reached the same conclusion. She raised a hand and fixed a firm gaze on the fake substitute teacher.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Is this the Program?"

Ms. Leticia, if it were possible, seemed more delighted than before.

"Such bright children! This is the fastest a student has ever figured it out before! Yes. You are correct. And," she added, surveying the students who were about to cry out, "You all know what happens if you are noisy and interrupt me. I kill you. Unless you would like to raise your hand for a question, then I will answer you."

There was dead silence.

Then, a girl raised a trembling hand. Ms. Leticia pointed at her.

"You! Silvia Perrins, girl number two, I believe. What is your question, Miss Perrins?"

"W-what did you do to our teacher Mr. Beryl? And the bus driver?" Sylvia wasn't in doubt about their fates, but she wanted to be sure. On second thought, maybe she didn't.

"They died," Ms. Leticia said, seeming unwilling to pursue the subject. Silvia decided to drop the matter.

"Anyway," Ms. Leticia said, a little less delightedly, "You know the rules."

They all did. Battle Royale was always televised, and the rules explained countless times.

"You will each receive one backpack. It will contain necessary supplies and one random weapon. You may be lucky, or you just might not."

"You can't do this! I'll have you know, my father is very important, and he won't allow me to go into Battle Royale!"

The boy who had spoken was glaring at Ms. Leticia, his hands curled into fists. He was Kevin Blake (Boy #8).

"Quiet," their teacher said coldly, reaching under her desk, and Kevin bit his tongue.

"Let's see...ah, I was warned of this. I believe there are six students in this class who are in, for lack of a milder word, a gang. This includes you, Mr. Blake. And I know for a fact that your father is a chef at a pizza place."

Kevin's face turned bright red, matching his hair.

"The one of you who actually has important parents is another in your gang. He would be David Caruthers, boy number eleven. His mother is the mayor of this town, and his father is the governor of our state Maryland. Isn't that right, Mr. Caruthers?"

The dark-skinned boy nodded boredly. It wasn't very fair calling him a gang member, he thought. True, he was in the infamous school group led by Campbell Peltz (Girl #1), but he only joined because he was bored. He didn't hurt anyone anyway, unlike the others.

"So. Does anyone else have any questions or comments?"

She's treating it like it's just any school activity, Beca Sykes (Girl #15) seethed. The lying snake. That poisonous, treacherous, deceitful peacock, standing there with a smile and an elaborate blonde hairdo.

A boy raised his hand.

"Yes! You are Emmett Kingsley, boy number nineteen, right?"

"You are entirely correct in your surmise," the redheaded boy answered quietly. For the first time, the other students were glad that Emmett had spoken.

He was just as much a snake as Ms. Leticia, possibly more. There were multiple students who had been manipulated by him, and plenty of them had never found out who the culprit was. Lilly Baraley (Girl #20) and Alec Voor (Boy #12) had been a couple until a rumor spread around school that Alec was going out with another girl. Lilly, humiliated and angry, never talked to Alec again. The poor boy had never even heard the rumor, and didn't know why his girlfriend avoided him at all costs. Alec, the lighthearted school clown, was brought down by Emmett, and had no clue. Lilly Baraley, the optimistic and selfless girl, had been brought down as well. If she'd known the culprit, Emmett would have come away with missing teeth.

"You used to be a real teacher," Emmett told Ms. Leticia. She didn't contradict him, only looked puzzled.

"You chose to join the managers of Battle Royale instead of dying. You've helped them for a long time. You've had so many children killed that your brain developed a different personality for you to retreat into. But you're not always in that, are you, Leticia?"

Ms. Leticia stood unmoving, her mouth hanging open. Tears were gathering in her eyes, but she made no sound.

"You used to love children. Your mind can't handle the guilt, so it tries to hide your old self. It doesn't work, does it, Leticia? You put on a cheerful exterior, but deep inside, you want to kill yourself. Don't you? You just want to die."

She made a faint choking sound, and a large tear dripped down from each eye. The other students wondered what would happen.

"Well, I can help."

Emmett got out of his desk and walked over to the frozen woman. He picked up the pistol from her desk. Taking one step forward, he whispered into her ear.

"You're not alone."

He shot her in the chest.

Blood spattered everywhere, and she crumpled to the floor. Emmett was covered in the sticky fluid, but he didn't seem to mind.

There was a sound in the back of the classroom. It was Tia Sinclair (Girl #11), retching onto the floor.

A few seconds later, when the class overcame their initial shock, they let out a cheer. They were free! They could go now. All thanks to Emmett Kingsley, who they never thought would be their savior.

His classmates swarmed around him, disregarding the filth he was soaked in. They hugged him, slapped him on the back, praised him.

"Stop, please. Stand back. I need to say something."

His voice was heard under the cacophony, and he was freed from the crowd. They quieted down.

"Now, this will disappoint you," he said gravely. The students wondered what it could be. Weren't they all free?

"Welcome to the new Battle Royale. Run by yours truly."

It couldn't be. Could it?

"I'm not joking. Did you really think you could all get away from here? I know a way, but only for a few people. And I can only get the collars off a few. So I'm offering a chance for some of you."

He spread his arms wide, looking out over the huddled, gawping mass. They were the sheep and he was the shepherd. Sheep only needed prompting, and then they'd go where you made them.

"Three people may join me. I will choose those three. Call them my elite squad, if you will. If the rest of you don't leave for your Battle Royale, which I shall watch on the cameras, I'll shoot her."

Emmett pivoted and pointed the gun at one of the most beloved members of the class.

Aria Marian (Girl #8).

Silvia Perrins shrieked, terrified for her best friend. Aria stood still, trembling. She clutched her pale hands to her mouth.

He looked around, searching for anyone who might make a move. He saw none. So he shrugged and, while keeping the gun trained on Aria, stepped forward to choose three students to keep with him.

"Come here, Brooke Stewards, girl number nine."

The 4'9" blonde girl gave a start, then, with no other visible option, walked slowly toward Emmett.

As the shortest student in class, you wouldn't think Brooke would be much of a threat, but you would be wrong. She was a very skilled gymnast and was one of the smartest students. Behind her plain gray eyes, there was a bloodthirsty mind at work, tempered with enough arrogance to keep her from succeeding at some things. Emmett knew this and knew she would be a useful ally.

"And you, Daniel Richardson, boy number thirteen. Shall I call you Danny? That would be an appropriate display of camaraderie, I think."

Danny looked around, as if there were another boy number thirteen named Daniel Richardson. Finding none, he took a shuddering breath, half of relief and half of fear. He joined Emmett and Brooke.

Daniel wasn't the most popular boy in school, if only because he spent all his time on a computer or reading a book. He was another intelligent student, curious, and determined to be a scientist. Branded as a geek, the lonely boy had turned more and more to bettering his mind. Unfortunately, he didn't handle stress or pressure well at all, the only thing stopping him from becoming anything he wished.

"Finally, I would like...you, Leticia!"

Most of the students gasped and jumped around, including Brooke and Danny. Ms. Leticia rose to her feet, unhurt and healthy, apart from a little ache in her chest.

"Quite a performance you put on, Leticia," Emmett told her, smiling slightly.

"I could say the same thing, Emmett," she replied, holding his gaze.

"A nice stunt with the bulletproof vest and the fake blood packets. I saw them, of course, but I doubt anyone else did." Nobody had except Emmett.

"Most likely not. Care to give me the gun? I'll put it away. There is a limited amount of bullets, and I'd rather you not waste them."

"How dull do you think I am?" he said coldly, keeping the gun aimed at Aria. "If I give it to you, you'll make Brooke, Danny and me all go out and join the battle. I hold the gun, I hold the power. I am in charge."

Ms. Leticia sighed. "Fair enough. I suppose you are. So I am part of your elite squad, I presume?"

"You are correct. Although it would be amusing to send you into your own battle, you're too valuable for me to have you killed. You're intelligent. I need intelligent people."

Emmett finally lowered the gun, sending Aria sobbing from fright into Silvia's arms. He stashed the pistol in his belt, along with a set of headphones.

"You know, I would actually like one more student to join me," he considered. "Five is a nice number. How about...you, Cheyenne LaFleur, girl number eighteen."

Startled, Cheyenne stopped playing with her hair.

"True, you aren't the brightest- except with history questions-"

Cheyenne glowered.

"But you are very pretty. I'm just choosing you because you're pretty, okay? Come over here. I can't let your pretty face go to waste."

Beaming, the tall girl joined Emmett with no hesitation. He chose her because she was _pretty_! He was the first person to call her that! He didn't want her to die because she was pretty. She _knew_ her sequined red dress was right for today. And Emmett wasn't too unattractive either, that skinny ginger.

Emmett stepped forward and embraced her, wrapping his arms around her neck. A few students mimed vomiting or simply rolled their eyes.

"That's my girl," he told her, stroking the back of her neck. She let herself feel blissful for a moment, then heard a rapid beeping. Looking down, she saw her collar's red light blinking.

Emmett backed away, not a trace of remorse in his brown eyes.

"I was curious," he said.

Her collar activated.

To the students watching with horrified fascination, it happened too quickly to really see that much. Cheyenne's eyes bulged, and her fingers scrabbled at the collar, trying to remove it. Her face went red, the veins standing out. She opened her mouth to scream, to cough, to make any sound at all.

Her collar finished constricting and severed her head.

The body and head fell to the ground. Ms. Leticia nodded, mildly impressed.

"I wasn't sure you'd be willing to actually make a kill."

"Oh, I'm willing to do a lot of things," the boy said lightly.

Inside he was thinking, _You have no idea._

**Cheyenne, you were interesting. Narcissists are, generally, especially those who can recite random history facts and do kickboxing. Sadly, you never were going to be able to survive. Your vice was your pride, and Emmett's curiosity was your downfall, coupled with how much you like your own appearance. It was a quick but painful death, one that you shouldn't have had. Rest in peace, Cheyenne LaFleur.**

**43 students remaining (the class began with 42 students, so normally there would now be 41 left, but an event in the sixth chapter effectively puts the total student number at 44, minus the dead)**

**Reviews are appreciated. I hope I did the characters justice. Do you like the twist? Didn't expect an elite squad, did you?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading. Reviews light up my day.**


	4. Elite Squad

There were some things Brooke Stewards didn't understand. She didn't understand why she had stopped growing taller at the age of twelve. She didn't understand why her father didn't get a better job than being a garbage collector.

And she didn't understand how Emmett Kingsley was getting away with this.

Something seemed fishy about how Ms. Leticia was acting, she thought, as the other students filed out under the orders of Emmett. Ms. Leticia seemed too unconcerned about the whole thing. There had to be something missing.

So Brooke tried to remember.

Then she did.

It was too late.

Emmett had left the schoolroom to the room with the cameras, and Leticia and Danny had followed. Brooke had stayed behind, thinking about the mystery. Now she was too far away to warn Emmett. Sure, he was nasty, but he had spared her.

Of _course_ there were guards in the building, just hiding.

Of _course_ Ms. Leticia had a failsafe- a remote collar activator.

Of _course_ she had been playing with him, and she would kill him.

For all his cleverness, Emmett had missed the things right under his nose.

Brooke bolted from the classroom, desperately hoping Emmett wouldn't be dead yet. She stopped outside the camera room when she heard voices.

"How many cameras are there outside?"

This was from Danny. Apparently Leticia hadn't made her move yet.

"Oh, a quantity, Danny," said the snake known as Ms. Leticia.

"Looks like the students are scattering everywhere across the city," said Emmett with satisfaction. "Quite a nice city, too. Look at those alliances. That gang will be formidable."

"Shouldn't we get Brooke?" Danny asked. "She might want to see what's happening."

She did, kind of, but she didn't want to blow her cover yet. Danny was ruining her eavesdropping.

"I'll get her," she heard Ms. Leticia say, and heard her walking toward the door. Brooke's eyes widened. Ms. Leticia must be about to fetch her guards to kill Emmett, most likely Brooke and Danny as well. She had to stop her, and take her hidden collar activator.

"Oh, one more thing, Emmett."

Brooke tensed, ready to leap into the room.

"Bye-bye."

Brooke burst through the door and stopped short when she saw that nobody had been harmed. Emmett looked at her, one eyebrow raised, then at Ms. Leticia, who laughed.

"You are so easy to startle, Brooke. I knew you were standing there."

"Hand it over, witch! You know what I mean! You filthy psychopath!"

The harsh tones came from her mouth unwillingly. Maybe she wasn't angelic, but she didn't insult people. That was for Beca Sykes (Girl #15) and Lilly Baraley (Girl #20).

"Ohh, insults now?" Ms. Leticia clapped her hands delightedly and giggled, the sound reminiscent of sleigh bells. "Descending to the level of the so-called gang, are we? Isn't that precious, Emmett?" She poked him. "Uttering vulgarities, Brooke? Shame on you. You're better than that- well, smarter than that."

Brooke couldn't believe her ears. "And yet you let children murder each other brutally while you sit and watch? That isn't vulgar?"

"I do it with class."

While Brooke was staring incredulously at the smirking Ms. Leticia, Emmett had beckoned Danny over to the door and was pressing his ear to it.

"What do you hear?" he whispered to Danny.

Danny shrugged. "Nothing."

"That's the sound of a trained soldier creeping up to this door to kill you, Brooke, and me."

_"What?"_

"Hush. Don't let him hear."  
"You knew?"

"Of course I did. I played Leticia for power, she 'played' me about the soldier, and I'm playing her now, because she doesn't think I know that there is a soldier outside this door."

With that, he hoisted Danny up by the collar of his shirt, opened the door, and slammed Danny's feet into the head of the soldier outside the door, knocking him cold.

Brooke and Ms. Leticia whirled around, and Emmett released Danny.

"What the hell was that?" Danny yelled, backing away.

"I needed a weapon and I didn't want to take the gun out of my belt- which I couldn't do anyway, because you took the gun when you poked me," Emmett said, scowling at Ms. Leticia. She smiled and held it up. "Of course you noticed."

"You wouldn't doubt that, would you?"

"Oh, never."

"You two are like Sherlock Holmes and Irene Adler," Danny blurted out. He couldn't help it.

"Uh, I don't mean to interrupt the references and flirting, which is disgusting by the way, because how old is Leticia? But she's got- gaaak!"

Ms. Leticia chopped Brooke's neck with her hand, effectively silencing her for the moment. Brooke gasped and bent over double, clutching her throat.

"You didn't need to do that. I know you've got more soldiers in the building, just waiting to ambush me," said Emmett.

"I've got something else."

She pulled out of her pocket her ace in the hole.

The remote collar activator.

Emmett paled, realizing his blunder. After focusing on every other thing, he'd missed what was right under his nose.

"A remote collar activator," Brooke wheezed, quite unnecessarily.

"I knew about that," Emmett said, trying to keep his voice light.

"No, you didn't. Not this. Everything else you notice, but then fall to a silly error. You didn't check my breast pocket, because it would appear as ogling me. Which you have been anyway. Don't think I wasn't looking."

He floundered, a fish out of water. "You- but- you can't kill me! I could have killed you, and I didn't! We're special, you and I, you know it, we could do so much together, we could be unstoppable."

"Too late," she said. "You are going to die."

"No!"

Brooke lunged for the collar activator, but Ms. Leticia held it over her head. "Ah, poor Brooke," she sighed dramatically. "If you were five feet tall, you could reach this. Alas. Don't make me set off your collar too, because I was going to be nice and send you outside."

"Please don't kill Emmett," Brooke begged. "Send him outside without a backpack, shoot him in the leg, I don't care, but please don't kill him."

"Thanks a lot," hissed Emmett.

"Why so fond of our little power maniac here?" asked Ms. Leticia, grinning like a jack o' lantern. "Have we a little crush on Emmett, Brookie?"

During the resulting yelling and jumping to get the collar activator, Danny was trying to sneak out of the room. If Emmett died, there would be no elite squad, and Danny would have to join Battle Royale.

He tiptoed out of the room and ran straight into a heavily armed soldier.

The soldier grabbed him, covered his mouth with a gloved hand, and dragged him back to the classroom. "You have to go outside, and you're not doing anything about it this time. Nobody can save you."

"Aren't those always the words that jinx your plan?" squeaked Danny, eyes watering from the grip on his hair.

"No. Choose a backpack."

Danny looked at the four remaining backpacks. One was for Cheyenne, who was dead. The other three were for Brooke, Emmett, and himself.

He chose one that felt pretty light. The soldier prodded his back with a large gun.

"Leaving or not?"

Danny gulped and set forth into the unknown.

Brooke, on the other hand, was pretty sure what was going to happen. Ms. Leticia had shoved her into a closet in the camera room, locked it with the key sticking out, and thrown the key into the wastebasket. Watching through the crack in the door, Brooke could see the witch trying to type in Emmett's name on the activator, which could then let her activate his collar. Emmett was jumping, trying to reach the device and swatting at it. Ms. Leticia was too tall. And she was almost finished typing it in.

When she had gotten to the 'King' in Kingsley, Brooke snatched up a mop from the closet, evidently a janitor's. With all her strength, she hit the top hinge of the door, and it fell off. She hit the bottom hinge. Ms. Leticia was at 'le' in Kingsley, despite Emmett's efforts. Brooke rammed the middle hinge, and the door toppled, crushing Leticia underneath.

Brooke strolled out. "You're welcome," she told Emmett, laughing at his shocked expression. "That was more fun than I expected, squishing the witch."

"Ding, dong, the witch is dead," he said.

"You think?"

Ms. Leticia crawled out from under the door, sporting a twisted arm. "Protected my head with this," she spat, holding up the broken collar activator. "You are the most difficult children I have ever come across."

She held up her gun and fired at Brooke.

Brooke felt red hot pain tear into her chest. She fell to the floor.

Dimly, she was aware of more people, soldiers maybe, coming into the room, dragging Emmett away as he kicked and flailed.

"Pl-please- don't leave me h-here," Brooke whispered. "I d-don't want to be a-alone."

"You need me to finish her off, ma'am?" one of the soldiers asked, pointing at Brooke.

"No, she'll be dead in a minute," said Ms. Leticia. She left the room. The soldier turned off the light, leaving Brooke alone with her pain in the dark.

It hurt more than she'd ever hurt before. She couldn't do anything but lie on the floor, feeling a wet puddle spread around her, and try to take shallow, gulping breaths.

She would never see her parents again. She tried to accept that, accept that she would die, but it didn't come naturally to her. She didn't give up, never had before. She didn't want to die.

She didn't want to die alone.

Brooke recalled a quote from a book she liked, called 'If I Stay', by Gayle Forman.

"I don't really care. I shouldn't have to care. I shouldn't have to work this hard. I realize now that dying is easy. Living is hard."

How true that was.

Life was hard. There were grenades, taxes, guns, nuclear holocausts, plague. So many bad things. But there were good things too. There were picnics, jobs well done, birthdays, good grades, loving parents. She didn't want to leave those things.

She didn't want to die and be forgotten, as important as dust in the wind.

Brooke Stewards died alone.

But her parents never let her be forgotten.

**Brooke, you were capable, strong, and smart. You could have won if it weren't for Emmett keeping you inside where Leticia could shoot you, so it wasn't your fault. In fact, you probably would have won. Your mindset on dying, not wanting to be alone, I feel that too. Nobody wants to die, and your death was lingering, paired with that sense of betrayal. I'm very sorry. Rest in peace, Brooke Stewards.**

**42 students remaining (again, the sixth chapter will have that make sense)**

**And the elite squad is done. Danny and Emmett are outside, Brooke is dead, and Leticia is in control again. Next chapter, you'll see what happens to some characters outside. Reviews are lovely.**


	5. Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

As the last person besides the Elite Squad to exit the school building, Ace Fernandez (Boy #21) was at a definite disadvantage, and he knew it. The only thing he had to give him a bonus was that he'd smuggled Tara Zeller's (Girl #21) bag of cupcakes out of the school before he was sent away. Not for nothing was he a practiced thief. Good enough that, in fact, the notorious group led by Campbell Peltz had tried to recruit him. He refused, preferring to analyze weaknesses and exploit subtle faults to steal things rather than being the official employed thief of a gang. His older brother Lance had to obtain some ointment to soothe Ace's numerous bruises he got from Campbell.

Now he was in possibly the worst place possible for a slight boy like him, Battle Royale. He'd made it safely through his parents' death, he'd stolen things with Lance to stay alive, and done a great number of things he wasn't proud of. He'd even learned to use blades with no small amount of skill. But despite all that, he hadn't managed to escape Battle Royale.

"Acey-wacey!"

Ace let out an undignified shriek and thrust his hand blindly into his pack, searching for a weapon, any weapon. He let out another shriek when he sliced himself and felt warm and sticky blood seep out. After yanking the small rapier out of his bag, he finally turned around, and was met with a burst of giggles. Tara Zeller was standing there, with her usual maniacally cheerful grin on her face. Her blonde hair was curling around her shoulders, and she was wearing her blue and white cheerleader outfit as the captain of the cheerleading group. In short, she looked exactly the same as she always did. This somehow made no sense to him. His whole world had changed in the past half hour; shouldn't everyone be different, physically as well as mentally changed? Yet here she stood, with her bag loosely slung over her shoulder and her obscenely short skirt.

"Acey! You okay? Aw, don't be a grumpy-wumpykins! Turn that frown upside down!"

He just didn't understand her. "Tara," he muttered, conscious of the stolen cupcakes in his bag, "You do realize that you're in Battle Royale, and there's no reason for you to be so happy?" You've got to be brain-damaged, he added inside his head, while frantically thinking of how he could escape.

She rolled her eyes and started to advance on him, as he backed away. "But that's why I'm so happy, silly!"

He stood still for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Penny in the air," Tara said with a mischievous grin, reaching into her bag.

Ace got it, turning tail and running for his life.

"And the penny drops!" she called gleefully. He heard her running after him, and he increased his speed through the city, heedless of the rapier that hung in his hand.

_Smack!_

Ace screamed, flinging his hands up to his eye. Rather, where his eye used to be. A knife had been hanging from a street lamp, and he had run right into it. Blood now pouring out of his eye socket and his hand, he tried to stagger away, but lost his balance and fell on the concrete ground, scraping the skin off his knee.

Tara cartwheeled to a halt next to him, then performed a backflip. "Wasn't that cool?" she said excitedly, as if she hadn't just blinded him with her knife. "I've been practicing! And practicing! And even more practicing!" She giggled, pulling her knife away from the lamp and shaking the blood off.

"You- you sick bastard!" Ace gasped, probing the area where his eye used to be. He was covered in blood. It was worse than when Campbell had beaten him up. He wished he'd joined them, because then he'd be in a strong group rather than alone, missing an eye.

"Ah ah ah, Acey-wacey! I'm going to have a lot of fun now, and you can't ruin it, understand?"

"Please kill me quickly," he begged, gritting his teeth against the pain and humiliation. He hated begging for anything. Lance always held him up, made him strong. What his brother would think when he saw him on television like this.

"Kill you quickly? Oh, of course not! See, I want to have fun. That means doing it slowly!"

She lunged at him, stabbing and jabbing and thrusting the knife into every place she could. First Ace screamed, but then he couldn't even manage that, so he curled into a ball, cowering and crying as she laughed. You couldn't even recognize Ace through the blood now. Tara couldn't stop laughing, for all the fun she was having. Why, it was better than Christmas! Better than her birthday! She used to do this to small animals, but her grandfather found out and stopped her. There was no grandfather to stop her now, though, since he was dead.

And when Ace was dead too, Tara pulled her knife out of his stomach and emptied the contents of his bag into her own. Then she skipped along the street, humming the tune to "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life".

_"Life's a laugh and death's a joke it's true_

_You'll see it's all a show keep 'em laughing as you go..._

_Just remember that the last laugh is on you."_

…..

"We're going to make kills, right?"

Campbell Peltz made no answer, only leaned her head on her hand and stared ponderously out the window of the house they'd taken refuge in.

"Campbell. Are we going to make any kills?"

She pulled one of the pink highlights in her black hair, and continued to stare.

"Are. We. Going. To. Make. Kills."

She whipped her head around and glared ferociously at Kevin Blake (Boy #8), making him take a step back. "God, Kevin! I'm trying to think! Can't you leave me alone for two minutes, or is that too much for you?"

"Sorry," he muttered, and retreated to the safety of the rest of the group. Or gang, as Ms. Leticia had called it. Not that Kevin thought it was a perfectly made gang.

You had Campbell, the leader, proficient at graffiti and vandalism, the biggest troublemaker, and the one who had organized the group. She was also no mean fighter, being a school wrestling champion, the only one who could rival Matthew Dennis (Boy #5).

Then you had himself, Kevin Blake. He didn't really consider himself anything special, although he often puffed himself up or 'put on airs', as Campbell said scornfully. He could play football and tennis, but those were pretty much his only skills. He enjoyed alcohol, and definitely enjoyed lovely girls...or pretty girls...or just plain girls. But speaking of lovely girls, another member of the gang was Riley Mercer (Girl #12).

She was beautiful. Kevin could never get enough of her. She wasn't a troublemaker, but was only in their group to manipulate their targets. And that was something she could certainly do. Just looking at her made Kevin's mouth water. The only girl in the school who could compete with her in looks was Angelic De'Mesa (Girl #9).

And there was Brett Danes (Boy #10). He was not the strong link. Kevin didn't much care for him. Brett didn't get along with anyone. He was bloodthirsty and enjoyed inflicting pain, not that he was a particularly imposing figure, standing at 5'3 and wearing thick black glasses.

Kimberly Clark (Girl #4) was the brain of the group, but didn't restrain from getting into fights, and was no weakling, being an excellent gymnast. She made the plans, but was apt to nearly fly out the window if she made a single mistake. She really didn't like Kevin, because he had once tried to flirt with her.

David Caruthers (Boy #11) rounded out their bunch. David, as far as Kevin was concerned, was the least desirable member. Yes, he was an award-winning runner, scouted by multiple colleges. Sure, his parents were so incredibly important that he could bring the group as much money as they wanted. But he was so violently opposed to...violence. He was gloomy, brooding and grumpy, and never helped when the group took on an opponent.

This will be one hell of a Battle Royale, Kevin thought to himself, whether Campbell would kill or not. And if she didn't, well, he would take care of that himself.

**39 students remaining**

**Poor Ace. You were a good character, and I admired your skills and devotion to your brother. Nobody deserves to be beaten up by Campbell, or have a life like you did, and you_ definitely_ didn't deserve the death you had. Sadly, that wasn't the last of Tara's brutal kills. You could have made it farther if you hadn't run into Tara, and Lance will miss you, so rest in peace, Ace Fernandez.**

**I bet you noticed the first scene from the previews in the second chapter. Now you know that Ace is dead, Tara is a freaky and dangerous contender (yes, she got her cupcakes back, The Rational Hatter), and you know the members of the gang. Reviews are lovely.**

**Mockingjay out!**


	6. Replacements

Ms. Leticia stared intently at the screen from her safe area in the viewing room, barely flinching as Tara brutally murdered Ace. It seemed almost as if she were out there watching it up close, because of the residual smell of Brooke's blood, though it had been cleaned already.

The red telephone for high priority calls rang loudly from the desk, and she jumped.

Composing herself slightly, she stared at it in trepidation. Because the Program had already started, it had to be...but she hadn't done anything wrong! Why would he call her now? Everything was going fine!

She picked up the phone carefully, as if handling a poisonous snake.

"Who is it?" she said, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. She already knew who it was.

"Don't play games with me, Leticia."

It was the voice of the most powerful and feared man in the United States.

President Laurence Calder.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry, Sir. To what do I owe the honor of this call, Sir?" she fluttered. Her heart was pounding so hard she was surprised the President didn't hear it. Then again, maybe he did.

"I am calling because I hear that you managed to lose authority for a brief time."

She cursed under her breath. Those guards would have to be punished for their interference. See how they liked their own kids in Battle Royale.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry, Sir. It was taken care of, Sir, it won't happen again."

"Hmm. I also hear that you not only managed to lose authority, but two students."

"W-What do you mean, Sir? It is the Program, isn't it, Sir?"

"Don't be foolish, Leticia!" His voice exploded in her ear, and she had to hold back a little shriek of fright.

"You know exactly what I mean! I know you're not stupid. You lost two students before they were outside. That means two less students for America to see die. I don't want to waste money on Battle Royale without full satisfaction."

"I'm s-so, so, sorry, Sir. But one of them was killed by another student, at least, I only killed one, Sir."

People who displeased the President tended to disappear.

"Are you talking back to me?" His voice was dangerously calm.

"I'm sorry, Sir! I didn't mean to, Sir!"

"If there are any more problems during this Program, I will send Skyling to replace you."

"With respect, Sir, Skyling isn't good enough. True, she did oversee the first American Battle Royale, the one with the Japanese former victor, but that was many years ago, Sir. She's old and her reflexes are going, Sir. And she shot one of her students in the first American Battle Royale."

"But she didn't kill the student. That leads me to believe she may be more capable than you."

Leticia clenched the phone so hard it almost cracked.

"I understand, Sir. I will perform my duties, Sir, there will be no more problems."

"Good. Because I want replacements for Girl #18 and Girl #10. Go get them. _Now_."

She dropped the phone and ran, the President's laughter echoing through the room.

….

"Bye, Janice. Later, Penny. Goodbye, Keisha. Have a nice day, Lucy."

Violetta Brooks, more commonly known as Viola, waved a cheerful goodbye to her friends and set off on the short walk home. It had been a pretty good day at her school. She'd gotten a B+ on her math test and climbed the big oak tree higher than anyone else in recess. Although there had been the issue of the school bully, Frederick. Apparently he didn't like people who scored higher than he did on tests. They'd both gotten into trouble for aggressive behavior. She didn't like people who were mean to her.

"Mom! Dakota! Starry! Bo! I'm home!" she called, walking up her driveway. There was no sound from the house. That was weird, with three siblings besides her and two foster siblings the noise was usually unbearable.

"Alexandra? Beck?" she said, her hand on the doorknob. Something smelled really bad, she could tell through the letter slot. Maybe Mom had cooked something abominable, and everyone left the house because of the stench.

Chuckling to herself, she fished under the doormat for the keys. But when she stuck the key in the lock, the door swung open. It had already been unlocked.

"Okaaaay, that was creepy," she said, taking a cautious step into the house. "Hello? Anybody home?"

It smelled terrible now. Like somebody died. The smell was a lot like blood, like when Beck punched her and gave her a bloody nose. Maybe somebody had gotten hurt, and they all left for the hospital.

She turned a corner into the kitchen, and saw six bodies on the floor.

"Noooo! Noooo!" she screamed. "Noooooooo!"

The unmoving bodies were covered in blood and bullet wounds. Viola's mouth moved silently, unable to form comprehensible words.

Mom...lying there, an arm draped over baby Bo, trying to protect him even in death.

Dakota and Starry...clutching each other, mouths open in the silent screams of the dead.

Alexandra and Beck...curled into balls, so unlike their usual hostile selves.

They were dead. They were all dead, like her father when she was four. A car crash. Accidental. But this definitely wasn't accidental.

A hand went over her mouth from behind, and she kicked straight up behind her.

A man collapsed, writhing in pain, and she ran for the door. Tears blurred her vision, and she smacked into the doorframe, getting a bloody nose for the second time in her life.

"Stop her! She's getting away!" yelled the man, his own eyes watering.

Two more people broke from their cover and ran for Viola. Her nose bleeding, the pain overwhelmed her for a moment, and they successfully grabbed her, putting her in an armlock.

"What- what did we do?" she sputtered, trying to twist away. "Why did you do this to us?"

One of them kneed her in the stomach. "Be quiet."

"We have lots of money! If you wanted to steal it, you didn't have to kill them!" she sobbed.

She was punched in the ribs. "Shut up. Where the hell is Leticia?"

"If you're taking me for ransom, my father will track you down!" she lied. "You'll all die! You better leave me alone!"

She was punched again, so violently that she had to gasp for breath. "This is your last warning. Be quiet."

A beautiful woman walked into the room, ignoring the blood she was stepping in. She was holding a rag, and from the pungent smell and the current situation, Viola knew it had to be chloroform. Hadn't she watched enough detective movies?

"Please! Please let me go!" she screamed, thrashing, every movement sending jarring waves of pain down her immobilized arms. "Let me gooooo- agh!"

She slumped, the rag taking effect. Her red hair flopped listlessly in the blood on the floor as she was dragged into a large body bag.

"Sorry, dear," Ms. Leticia told the bag. "Only doing my job. Now I've got one more to go."

…

"Aw, come on, Tate! I don't wanna go outside! Stop it!" Jeanette Isabella Pikes complained as her friend manhandled her onto the high hill near her house.

"Tate Race, put me down this instant! I might get a tan or a sunburn!"

"Yeah, sure, Jittery. You'll get sunburned in the middle of fall."

She pouted. "I hope you get attacked by rats and then whipped to death. Hey, look at that cloud! It looks like a book! I wonder if rats would eat books, I mean if they were really hungry and there was nothing else to eat, it's only paper. I'm sure a book wouldn't eat a rat, though, except like in that one movie, I forget what it was called, but remember the book that ate things? I wonder if you could rip apart a book with a whip. Paper's pretty fragile, right? I mean, just think of Traysee's diary, we sure ripped that up easily, but she deserved it, since she was obsessing over her makeup and how we mustn't disturb her while she was putting it on- Tate? Tate? Why are you ignoring me? You're so mean! I hope you get burned at the stake!"

"Jeanette Isabella," he said, "Hush. Just look around. Isn't it nice today? It's not too hot, is it? The sun's behind a cloud."

The cloud moved, displaying the sun in all its blinding brilliance, which seemed most attracted to Tate's curly hair.

He swore, and moved to the left. The sunlight obligingly followed him.

"What the hell? Jittery, stop laughing! Why are you-"

He suddenly clapped his hand over her mouth, and pulled her low to the ground. Before she could try to protest, he pointed over the side of the hill.

Three men and one beautiful woman were walking up. That wasn't alarming by itself. But coupled with the two body bags they were dragging, one of them occupied, was enough to scare Jeanette Isabella into silence.

"Just great! We have to walk all the way up this hill pulling Replacement Number Eighteen, after we already went to Replacement Number Ten's house, and she wasn't there," one of the men griped. Jeanette Isabella didn't know what that meant, but it sounded disturbing.

"And we had to kill the father and sister, which I don't mind, but it's more paperwork to fill out. And the mother, the you-know-who, she got away!"

Her mouth dropped open. Surely they didn't mean they killed her own family? Father and Traysee? And how did her mother get away? Tate's fists were clenched, and he was muttering all the swear words he could think of.

"And now we've got to kill the boyfriend too, which means more paperwork!"

Despite everything else that was happening, Tate's face turned scarlet.

"And now they aren't there. You scared them off. Great job, Louis."

"No, no, don't worry," said a voice that sent chills down Jittery's spine. "They're right up there now, listening to every word. Here, give me that."

"Perhaps this isn't the most romantic setting for it," Tate whispered, "But I really like you, Jitterbug."

Her mouth dropped open.

And a hole was blown in Tate's chest.

He fell over backwards, tumbling down the hill, leaving a bloody trail. His limbs flopped in every direction. Jittery couldn't stop screaming.

If the whole scene had been a movie they were watching, Tate would have made fun of it. He would have said, "Yep, cliche as always. Boo-hoo, the newly discovered boyfriend dies dramatically by the evil killers, giving the lovely female main character the spirit to defeat the evil killers. Oh, and the main character is always brunette. In movies, the main character girls are always brunette. Blaugh. Let's watch a different movie." Jittery would have laughed and laughed.

Jittery happened to have brown hair. She considered herself at least averagely attractive. Her best/boyfriend had just been killed.

But she didn't have the spirit to defeat the evil killers. All she could do was cry as she was taken away. Apparently, stories don't always have good endings.

**Poor Violetta and Jeanette Isabella. Ms. Leticia cares more about herself than them and their families...until her Remorse Side comes in. Reviews are more radiant than the sun.**


	7. Library Losers Minus One

"Wake up!"

There were two loud squeals as Violetta Brooks (Replacement Girl #10) and Jeanette Isabella Pikes (Replacement Girl #18) jolted forward in their chairs and were met with unyielding iron bands encircling them.

"I am so sick of unruly students," Leticia snapped, standing again at the front of the room where all the students had woken up. "I had to do something about it." She gingerly tested her arm, currently swaddled in a cast, and swore under her breath.

"What- but- who- you killer!" yelled Jeanette Isabella, dazed and sporting a massive headache. Viola was in shock at the moment, too overcome by the memory of the gory bodies of her family to say anything.

"What? No words from Miss Pikes? Too bad, your father was quite the eloquent speaker," Leticia said lightly. Her words had the desired effect.

"My- my father? What about him? He was already dead. D-did- did you kill him?!" Viola stuttered, shaking due to the wicked pain in her head and the shock of the current situation.

"Hey, wait! Viola! It's me, Jittery!" Jittery swiveled around as far as she could in her seat at the sound of her classmate's voice. "It's me! You know, Jeanette Isabella Pikes? Of course everyone calls me Jittery, though, because who wants to say Jeanette Isabella? I wish Isabella could've been my middle name instead of part of my first name, because what were my parents thinking when they- oh no." Jittery stopped her nervous babbling as her attention swiveled over to Leticia. "My parents. You killed them!"

"At last! The great human genius sees the truth!" Leticia said with derision.

"That's from Artemis Fowl," Viola muttered, the quote somehow breaking through her haze.

"Yes it is. Now enough chatter, let's get serious, girls," said their kind, compassionate teacher, her lovely features twisting into a mask of disgust.

"You are in Battle Royale. Now don't get worked up. You could've been chosen earlier anyway, but you two didn't go on your class trip. You have been chosen now because female students numbers ten and eighteen were eliminated too soon."

"B-Battle Royale? Why? I don't want to die! Viola, this isn't right! I hope this woman gets flayed alive!" yelled Jittery, making ugly faces at Leticia.

"Just like your mother," Leticia sighed, making a mental note to send out a SWAT team to kill Jittery's highly trained mother. Seeing the obvious confusion, she allowed herself a bitter chuckle and explained to the girls about their parents.

"Miss Pikes, your mother is a trained traitor operative in an organization which has the prime goal of unseating our illustrious government and transferring the power to themselves," she rattled off. Jittery blinked. "Whoa. Do you, like, have that on flash cards or something?" she said, hoping to annoy Leticia with her juvenile speech. She was disappointed.

"No, you silly little girl. And Miss Brooks, your father, who I personally assassinated-" she smiled grimly- "was also in that organization, as a speaker who would rally his treacherous allies with aggressive speeches."

She surveyed the stunned girls and laughed out loud, the sound like sleigh bells. "You didn't know at all, did you? Your own parents. My, my, it looks like I'm not the villain after all."

"You're lying!" Jittery shrieked. "You lying...liar! I- I hope you have to go into Battle Royale yourself! Don't you have any compassion? What if you had kids and they were chosen for Battle Royale?"

There was a ghastly silence as Leticia staggered back, mouth opening and closing wordlessly, an unspeakably horrified expression on her face. She shook her head frantically, digging her fingernails into her own face until the blood ran down.

Viola and Jittery had no choice but to watch, wondering and disturbed.

Finally, Leticia straightened up and wiped the blood off her face. Her face was cold, no sign of the previous horror.

"Get up." She released the iron bands and gestured toward the two remaining packs, which would have been Cheyenne's and Brooke's. "Take those. Miss LaFleur and Miss Stewards don't need them any more."

Cowed, the girls did as they were told, afraid of Leticia's reaction to Jittery's seemingly innocuous words.

"NOW GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" she shrieked, and the terrified girls ran as fast as they could out into Battle Royale.

Leticia, now unwatched, gave way to her sorrow. "Oh god...oh my god...no…" She buried her face in her hands. An onlooker wouldn't be able to tell if she was crying or laughing, quite rightly since she was doing both.  
"Oh god…" She lifted her face, her perfect makeup streaked with tears. "That stupid girl...she couldn't have known...known about my...my…"

She threw her head up and screamed, the effort making her lungs ache, but she kept screaming, louder and louder until every guard in the building and even some students outside could hear her.

"BRIANNA!"

She collapsed on the cold floor of the classroom, shivering, drained of all her strength. After the years she'd sworn never to say the name again...after the years she'd tried to forget...she'd tried to drown her anguish and become as cruel as the world that took the only person tethering her to sanity…

"Brianna, Brianna, Brianna," she whispered, over and over again. "Brianna, Brianna, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Baby, I'm sorry. Brianna, I'm so sorry."

Her hand moved over the floor, stroking the hair of a long lost girl. "Bree, Brianna, I'm sorry."

_"But Sir!" she had protested, her so far unquenchable joy in the Program fading, "Brianna can't be chosen! Please, Sir, pick a different class! I can't let my Bree die, Sir!"_

_"Hush, Leticia. It's your own fault for deciding on this job that you have to oversee this particular one. She is only a casualty in a war to free America of rebels and unpatriotic children."_

She had overseen a Battle Royale that made her what she was now. A neurotic, half joyful and half remorseful teacher who had nothing. Riches and a wonderful house, beauty and elegant clothes, a brilliant mind and anything money could buy, what was all that? Nothing. Because she didn't have Brianna. Brianna, who never had a loving father, because Leticia had been a flighty young girl in college and didn't bother with a marriage or any commitment..

"Brianna, sweetness, I'm sorry," she cried over and over again, curled up as if she were dying. "Brianna, I love you. I love you. Brianna, my daughter, I'm so sorry."

….

"BRIANNA!"

"What was that?" Sophia Plummer (Girl #17) whimpered, trying unsuccessfully to squeeze her tiny body into a still tinier ball. "I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die oh god what do I do I'm gonna-"

"Sophia, shut up!" hissed Julia Fitzalan-Howard (Girl #16), clapping her hand over the panicking girl's mouth. "You really are going to die if you're so loud. Whoever that was, it doesn't matter, because there isn't anyone named Brianna in class."

"You're being just as loud, Julia," Michael Ragetti (Boy #17) whispered, calmly holding Sophia's hand. "And if we aren't loud, maybe Ryu won't be able to find us."

"I told you, he's probably abandoned us!" she said, exasperated that Michael had to keep his good opinion of everyone even when they abandoned their friends. "Maybe he doesn't want to be a Library Loser. Maybe he's tired of us."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. We're safe enough here. Nobody would think of looking in a dumpster, right? And we have...weapons." If you counted Julie's rope and Michael's frisbee as weapons. Of course, Sophia did have five hand grenades, and Michael had a baseball bat he'd taken from a house near the empty but smelly dumpster they were in. He'd had to break a window to get in, which he regretted since the owners would presumably be back, but he had to protect Sophia. She was so like his little sister Helena.

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

The three students in the dumpster froze instantly. Even Sophia stopped shaking and kept absolutely still. They held their breath.

Clunk, clunk, clunk- SLAP.

They heard a body fall on the concrete outside, and Sophia bit her jacket collar to keep from screaming. Michael throttled his baseball bat, and Julie carefully formed her rope into a noose, whether for herself or the approaching student Michael couldn't say. You never could tell with a normally suicidal girl.

"Owww," they heard someone moan, getting to their feet with a loud scraping. It was a girl's voice, but Michael couldn't place it. He wondered if he should make himself known, and hope that whoever it was would be friendly and have a bad weapon.

He was relieved of this decision when a spider skittered over Sophia's arm, and she screamed hysterically, the sound echoing around the enclosed space. Julia clapped her hand over Sophia's mouth again, but the damage had been done. There was a gasp from outside, and clunking footsteps toward their hiding place.

With a loud creaking, the dumpster door swung open, and Michael reflexively swung his bat.

SQUELCH.

Blood sprayed over his arm, and there were two screams. One from Sophia, and one from the girl whose skull he had just fractured, who was pretty much the most harmless girl in class.

Tia Sinclair (Girl #11) crashed to the ground and lay there, long limbs spread in every direction like a squashed spider. Her pack and weapon, a Walther p.99, slid away. The gun hadn't even been primed to fire.

"Holy cr-" Julie began, then saw Michael's face, and decided to not upset him more.

Michael felt the world spinning around him, and darkness ate at the corners of his vision. What had he done? Had he just killed Tia, the sweet girl who was always self conscious about her clumsiness and lanky limbs? Tia, who kept her blonde hair in a bun because Angelic De'Mesa (Girl #9) had once, so she was firmly convinced it was the epitome of style. Tia wouldn't kill anyone. But he just killed her.

"Tiaaaa!" wailed Sophia, trembling like an autumn leaf. "Oh my god what did you just do Michael you just killed Tia oh god oh god-"

Tia sat up, making even Julie have to hold back a shriek. Michael skittered backwards, momentarily too overcome with fright to see if she was okay. Tia looked like a zombie, he thought for a panicked moment. Blood was pouring down her face out of her shattered nose, and her head was dented in. Michael was no doctor, but he had been hit by a car the year before and broke his arm, collarbone, and left leg, and reading about bone fractures in the hospital had not left him unknowledgable. There was no way Tia could survive, and it was his fault.

"Mi- Mi- Mi- Michael," she gurgled, bloody saliva running down her broken jaw. "I- I- I- he- help m- help me, Mi-"

Her agony was clear, and she gurgled some more, helpless and dying. The pain she had to be feeling wasn't even imaginable to him, and he had been hit by a car.

"Tia, I'm sorry," he said, unable to think of anything else. What do you say when you've just accidentally given someone a fatal wound?

"Mi- Mi- Michael," she spluttered, her fingers twitching. Twitch, twitch, twitch, uncontrollably, blood pooling in her cupped hands and spilling when they twitched. That was the last straw for Michael and Sophia. In unison, they retched over the side of the dumpster. Julie clamped her hand over her own mouth, her face turning green as Tia's was rapidly losing blood and turning white.

"Mi- Michael- it hur- hurts- help me-"

There was nothing anyone could do to help, and Michael was forced to watch a girl dying in unspeakable pain. It was his fault.

"You can help her, Michael," said Julie, looking at her feet in shame for what she was suggesting. He turned to face her, anger marring his face for once.

"There is no way to help! You can't lie to her or me. She's d-dying." He paused for a moment to pass his sleeve over his eyes. "Sophia. Is there any way to heal her? You would know."

The frightened girl, possessed of a near photographic memory, shook her head mutely. Spending all her time in the library (making her the original 'Library Loser') had given her a high level of intelligence in many fields, including medical emergencies.

"I didn't say heal," Julie countered. Michael suddenly understood.

"Tia. I am so sorry," he started to say, then couldn't finish as he was racked with sobs. "I ca- I can't do it. I can't. I'm s-sorry."

Without a word, Julie rose to her feet and emerged from the dumpster. She picked up Tia's gun.

"Stand back."

Michael and Sophia, both crying, scrambled backwards.

"J- J- Ju- Julie," said Tia, the life in her eyes almost gone. "Th-thank you. If y-you ma- ma- make it-"

She couldn't finish, but Sophia finished for her. "We'll tell your d-dad we tried to help you."

Tia's broken, bloody mouth smiled.

Then Julia shot her in the head, immediately ending the poor girl's suffering.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, and felt a tear run down her face.

**38 students remaining**

**Tia, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry? No, that isn't enough for someone you've just given a fatal wound. You never deserved that. Your father will be all alone now, dreaming of his sweet little girl. You never could have won, being only a clumsy child who never could hurt anyone, but you shouldn't have died like that. Rest in peace, Tia Sinclair.**

**Oh my god. That was one of the most emotional chapters I've ever written. Excuse me while I go cry my eyes out in a corner. Tia's death mainly, but you have to feel a bit sorry for Leticia and her daughter Brianna. And of course Jittery and Viola, and their families. But the one good thing about this chapter is that you now know there is a secret community opposing Battle Royale, and Jittery's mother is part of it, and didn't die.**

**Mockingjay out.**


End file.
